Synching With the Devil's Son

Chapter 4

Lucien's P.O.V

Camping? These kids want to go camping? Don't they understand the logic of sleeping indoors with air conditioning and running water? I sigh and shake my head at the inanity of it all, doing a mental inventory of what I need to bring. Mick said he'll have a tent for me, and asked if I could supply the alcohol. I just need swim trunks, a couple changes of clothes and a sleeping bag. Do we even have a sleeping bag? I wonder if their friend, Bella, is going to be there. She is so much fun to torture and tease, it almost makes me look forward to going. I smile as I think about all the things I can do to her while sitting around a fire, or ensconced in a tent, when I hear a deep voice ask, "What are you smiling about, son?"

I whip around to see my Dad leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. I look almost exactly like him, tall and golden skinned, a mass of wavy almost jet black hair on my head. We are both broad and lean, with defined musculature and trim waists, but his eyes are almost as dark as his hair. Mine are blue, the only thing I inherited from my mother. He wears a neatly trimmed five-o'clock shadow on his face, but I like to keep my face clean shaven. It makes my square jaw and cleft chin more discernible, and the girls around here seem to love that. They pretend to be hard to catch, but I find they are even easier than the ones in Hell. The only problem is, the living girls have emotions and large male family members who don't find my philandering very funny. Well too bad. I'm supposed to be 'immersing myself' in humanity, a task I find menial and tedious. Despite being half human, I haven't found much I like about the population here in general. Mick, Jeff and Daniel are okay I guess, but Ryan is a little pussy. He's totally whipped by that girlfriend of his. I mean, she is a gorgeous example of female flesh, but he cannot breathe without checking in with her first, and that disgusts me. Maybe I'll seduce one of the girls this weekend. It shouldn't be too hard...all the girls want me, tell me I should be a model, praise my physique and scream my name out in ecstasy when I am able to compromise them. Everyone, that is, except Bella. I smile a little broader when I think of all the ways I'm going to torture Bella this weekend. My Dad would be angry if he knew what I was planning, so I say, "I'm just getting ready to go camping," not really answering his question. "Hey, do we have a sleeping bag?" When my father nods, I ask, "Would you please get me a variety of alcohol and weed? I need enough for ten people for three days." I would get it myself, but my Tennessee license says I'm eighteen. Besides, if there is one good thing about having the Devil as your father, it's that he is always willing to help spread debauchery around like the common cold.

"Camping?" he murmurs, disgust written on his face. Apparently he finds the idea as abhorrent as I do. Then he shrugs as if to say, glad it's you and not me, in that one dismissive movement. "Is marijuana the strongest drug you want?" he asks, looking at me with his eyebrows slightly raised.

I nod. "I don't want to look like a drug dealer," I tell him, turning to shove clean underwear into my backpack.

"I will go check the garage for a sleeping bag," I hear him say as he walks away and I continue to pack my backpack, wondering what possesses humans to want to sleep outside and commune with nature. I suppose in this instance, these kids are looking for a place to party outside the watchful eyes of their parents. I can get on board with that, I think as I grab my motorcycle helmet and look for my father. This weekend might just turn out to be pretty entertaining since Bella is sure to be there. I begin planning some fun torture for her over the next few days...well, it will be fun for me at least.